Author's infos

Introduction:

A story my boyfriend wrote about me punishing him

My Mistress is the perfect mate for me. Never before in life have I felt as fulfilled as when I am with her. It is sheer joy to give over my power to her; to willingly submit to her every whim. I am happy to consider myself her personal property; I am to be used however she pleases. And she uses me well.

For one thing, Mistress has perfect appeal to me physically. She looks about the exact opposite of what one would expect of a highly dominant female who is actively involved in the BDSM lifestyle. She has a sweet, open face framed by soft brown hair. Her dark eyes are intelligent and direct, and she has a voluptuous, curvy body. Her breasts are full but not too big. The rest of her stats I'll allow her to describe to you, if ever you should meet. What I can say, is that my Mistress does take another slave on occasion, when it suits her. If you are a sub, and she chooses you, you're lucky. Don't get any ideas, though. She's mine..lol

Our relationship has not always been perfect though. There have been times when I have chafed under her command; been resentful of the hold Mistress demands over my life. If you knew me in real life, most likely you would never picture me as submissive in any way. I am loud, opinionated and assertive. I take care of myself in every way, and have learned through bitter experience never to rely on other people. This is one of the reasons why Mistress chose me. She wanted someone independent, who could hold their own and did not have to be taken care of and coddled like a child.

This story is about the most severe punishment I ever had to endure during my time with Mistress. Of course, my transgression was pretty severe too. It happened one day when I had just arrived home from work and was tired. Usually, in our relationship, there are times when the ordinary rules of D/s are suspended, and I am allowed to speak to Mistress as I would to any other girlfriend. I am not required to address her as "Mistress," and we have ordinary conversations and do ordinary things, like any other couple. The catch, though, is that I never know ahead of time when these "free periods" will end--they come and go according to Mistress' whims. Mistress makes it clear when free time is over; either in her voice or by something she says. Occasionally, she has embarassed or humiliated me in public. She may suddenly begin ordering me around, let's say, and I will have to do as she says or else risk punishment later. The most notable example occurred one time in the supermarket while we were shopping. Out of nowhere, Mistress turned to me and said, "Go get a box of frozen waffles and put them in the cart, you worthless fucking whore" This was in full earshot of another woman, who was perusing the shelf right next to us. She turned bright red, and hurried away from us quickly. (Just to clarify, though, Mistress only does something like this when I have disobeyed her in some way, and am deserving of punishment. She knows that I am careful about how I present myself to people, and hate being the center of public attention unless I have specifically chosen to)

Anyway, on this particular day, I had just gotten home. I was tired and stressed. They'd been giving me shit about some paperwork that was due. I had completed it early; two days early, in fact, and had put it in the appropriate folder. Since then, it had disappeared. My job involves teamwork with other employees; there are many times when someone else would need to access work I had done, since most of what we do there is client-centered, and more than one person may theoretically be working with the same client. So clearly someone else had removed the report for whatever reason and had neglected to put it back, and so far I had been unable to run it down. So now it was ME who had the problem, because the supervisor wanted to see it, and you could tell he was skeptical of my claim and probably thought I just hadn't done it and was now stalling for time.

Fast forward to me walking in the front door of the house Mistress and I shared. She was sitting quietly in the kitchen nook, reading a book at the table. She looked relaxed. Her hair was swept back and into a clip, and she had a cold drink in front of her. She looked up at me. "Hello, Slave," she said, and inwardly I groaned. (I had been expecting a "hey" or maybe a "hi, baby") I could see she was clearly in D/s mode by how she looked at me.

I tried to explain. "Look, baby, I understand if you're feeling THAT way right now, and I know that I'm supposed to click right into place whenever you are, but I gotta tell ya, I've had a really shitty day, and I'm tired. So, I promise that we can play as much as you like, if you could give me just say 20 minutes or so to unwind. OK, baby?" She paused, appearing to consider. "I see," she said eventually, and turned back to her book. I assumed that meant the subject was closed. I made my way into the living room and sat down on the couch. I didn't even feel like turning on the TV. I let my eyes close.

I must have rested for about five minutes. Then, suddenly, I was jolted by the shock of ice-cold liquid splashing in my face. Shocked, my eyes flew open, and there was Mistress standing there, glaring ferociously at me. She'd just thrown her drink on me. Before I could utter a word of protest, she began berating me viciously. "I'm sorry, were you TIRED? I didn't mean to bother you when you're TIRED. In fact, you know what? Why don't we just flip the entire script of everything right now? You know, being that you're so TIRED and everything. Yeah, that's what we'll do. I'll go and do all the dishes, clean up the kitchen, and put something in the oven for your fucking dinner, and I'll go in the bedroom and put makeup on and get naked so you can look at me, and then I'll get right down on my knees and give you a blowjob, right there on the bedroom floor. When you cum, I'll swallow every drop. Then you can go relax in the living room and when the fucking food's ready, I'll bring it in there and serve it to you, and then stand there and rub your back for you while you eat! How would that be, BABY? Would you like that?"

I knew instantly the way I was going to have to answer that question. "No, Mistress. Mistress, I'm sorry..." I said.

My heart is not really in this apology, however. I'm still mainly thinking about work, this, that and the other. But Mistress is unyielding. I wonder to myself if she's about to get her period--that would explain things, as she gets cranky and snappish a few days before. Usually she is very even-handed and fair in terms of discipline. Today, though, I came home to be greeted by a she-wolf. "You know you're getting punished good for this, don't you?" Mistress asks me. There is something in her tone, something which (probably because of my own bad mood) comes off so smug and gloating, that causes me to make the final mistake. "Oh Christ, why don't you go fuck yourself already," I mumble under my breath, not intending for her to hear me. I am going to wind up very sorry for the next several hours that she does!

"Get downstairs....now!" Mistress snapped. By "downstairs" she meant the basement. The house we live in belongs to Mistress; she inherited it from her family. It's old, and parts have been extensively remodeled. The basement, however, has been left mostly untouched. The walls are rough stone and masonry. It is a gloomy, dungeon-like place. Think Silence of the Lambs but without the well, and you're on the right track. There is one tiny window on the far side, towards the front of the house, but it is so small and dusty that it barely lets any light in. It's doubtful anyone could see much by looking in, even if they were trying to. Mistress has added one touch, to be used for when I need a more severe punishment than just a beating with the belt, or some form of humiliation. A friend of ours who is a bricklayer has pulled out two sections of the wall and cemented iron rings into it, to which chains can be attached. A more-or-less willing prisoner could be kept chained up down there in isolation for quite a while. I reflect to myself that even an UNwilling prisoner could be kept there for quite a while, possibly forever. The house sits on a small patch of land, and the nearest neighbor is about an eighth of a mile down the road. You could scream your lungs out and no one would hear you. It is a sign of my complete trust in Mistress and the sacrament of our bond that I have ever actually allowed her to chain me to this wall, even for a short period of time.

I know there is no avoiding punishment this time. I have given pretty much the ultimate disrespect by my behavior since coming home, followed by what I've just dared to say to her. I have 2 options; either I can take whatever Mistress chooses to dish out as punishment, or we can call it quits. We both take the bond seriously, and there is no way we would be able to go on in our relationship without addressing what's just happened. The second option is unthinkable. I can't be separated from my Mistress now. I could never stand it. So, I mentally "suck it up" and try to ready myself to take it like a man.

Reluctantly, I make my way down the stairs to the basement. Mistress stands at the head of the stairs, watching me descend. She flips the switch which turns on the bare, dim, overhead bulb. When I reach the bottom, she orders me, "Go to your place. Wait there for me. Take off all your clothes and don't do anything else. Just wait." Then she disappears.

I know what Mistress means by "your place." All the way over at the end of the basement opposite the window, are the two iron rings sticking out of the wall. Two lengths of chain hang down from the rings. In the center of the concrete floor, Mistress has set up a large, square sheet of plywood on the floor. A mattress sits on top of it. The mattress is old, but not stained or dirty, and the sheets it is made up with are clean. The lengths of chain reach as far as the middle of the mattress, with a little bit of slack. It's meant to provide a place to lay down during those times when I am made to stay bound and chained down here, waiting for Mistress' return. This arrangement is reserved for serious punishment, so I have not often had to spend time here. When I have though, the wait has sometimes been several hours. Mistress likes to keep me down here when she's particularly displeased with something I've done, so I can think about it.

I hear Mistress' footsteps descending on the stairs.

I wait for her, standing naked in front of the mattress. I cannot see Mistress from where I'm standing, until she gets to the bottom, then turns towards the area where I am, in the far end of the cellar. As she comes closer, I see she is completely naked. Her perfect breasts that I love so much bounce slightly as she briskly walks the few steps over to where I'm standing. Her pussy looks freshly shaved. Her hair is still held back in the clip, her feet are clad in sandals and her toenails are recently polished (black). She is holding something in one hand which I can't see. What I CAN see is that she's carrying a black riding crop as well. I swallow uncomfortably. My punishment is clearly going to hurt.

Mistress stops directly in front of me, looking me up and down. I can see she is still very angry with me, and is holding her temper back--but with difficulty. She doesn't speak for several moments, just continues to stare into my face with that same grim expression on her face. Finally, she breaks her silence. "Well, Slave...are you ready for your punishment?"

"Yes, Mistress," I reply humbly, casting my eyes down at the floor. "Good," she answers. "I would certainly think that you should be. You didn't imagine that I would just allow you to get away with the way you just spoke to me, did you? You may be only a stupid slut, but you're not THAT stupid!" "No, Mistress," I reply. "No Mistress," she says sneeringly, mocking my tone. "OK, then, my cumrag..Get your stupid slut self over by those chains. For starters, I'm restraining you." As I comply with this demand, Mistress reaches over to a little niche in the stone wall, where she keeps 2 small padlocks. This is her improvised method for chaining me up. Quickly, she loops the end of the chain around each of my ankles, then slips one of the locks through the links and snaps it shut. Suddenly, a couple of lines from the Edgar Allan Poe story, The Cask of Amontillado, come to mind: In an instant, he had reached the extremity of the niche, and finding his progress arrested by the rock, stood stupidly bewildered. A moment more, and I had fettered him to the granite. I shiver. In the story, Montresor takes revenge upon Fortunato by walling him up within the catacombs and leaving him there to die. It's a creepy image.

No sooner have I been shackled, then Mistress shows me what she was carrying in her hand. Two clothespins. "Put these on your nipples, you stupid foul-mouthed slut," Mistress orders. I grimace, but inwardly, careful to not let my displeasure show on my face. Mistress knows how much I hate the clothespins--they hurt. Mistress makes sure to buy the most expensive, heavy-duty clothespins she can find, and they have a strong grip. After a while the dull, throbbing pain drives all other thoughts except hope of relief from my mind.

Mistress laughs cynically, and addresses me: "Well Slave, just look at you! Do you know what a pathetic sight you make, standing there naked, with clothespins on your whore nipples, and with that filthy cock of yours just dangling there between your legs, so soft and small? It almost looks like a little boy's cock! It must be so small from fear, yes? not wanting to take your punishment, I imagine"

"I don't know, Mistress. I suppose so," I reply quietly. She sneers again. "You fucking bitch. You're such a fucking bitch, did you know that? Afraid of a little woman like me." I interject. "Mistress, I'm not afraid of you," but almost before I can finish saying the words, she delivers a vicious open-handed slap to my face. It is hard enough to make my eyes water in pain and my cheek begin to throb. "SHUT UP !!," she hollers. "Don't you DARE contradict me !! Don't you fucking DARE!"

"That's better, Slave," says Mistress. "Now we can proceed to the first part of your punishment. The first part of your punishment is that you're going to fuck me..Not too harsh, is it? But you'll see where the punishment part comes in I'm sure! Of course, you can't fuck me with your cock so small and soft like that. So I guess I'm going to have to help you get started. Stay standing, exactly as you are! don't move a muscle," Mistress orders. Without another word, she drops to her knees in front of me, taking my soft cock in her mouth and beginning to suck it. As her tongue swirls around and she sucks harder, complete with wet slurping noises and little groans of pleasure, my cock begins to stiffen. As Mistress feels it beginning to grow in her mouth, she stops suddenly, withdrawing it. "Don't you moan or make the tiniest fucking sound, you filthy whore! I'm doing this only to get your worthless, sad cock hard and big enough for you to stick it in my pussy! This is for MY pleasure not yours, so be absolutely silent! And if you should happen to fuck up and cum in my mouth, I promise you I'll make you wish you were fucking dead!" With that, she returns to sucking my cock. I am stiffening up quick now. By the time Mistress sucks one of my balls into her mouth, playing with it, I am fully erect and standing straight up.

Suddenly, she stops. Withdrawing her mouth from me, Mistress moves over to the mattress and lays down on her back across it. "Now fuck me. Get down here, cumrag, and fuck me just as hard as you can. You have my permission. Do it NOW!," she barks.

I waste no time. Ordinarily I would be hurrying out of lust, but now it is just an attempt to minimize whatever Mistress has planned. I lay on top of Mistress, as she reaches up to guide my cock inside of her. She positions it perfectly between her pink pussy lips, and I thrust in, penetrating deeply. Mistress rakes her nails into my back painfully, drawing blood, She wraps her legs around me and arches herself up off the bed, meeting my thrusts. I begin pounding into Mistress hard, almost forgetting for a minute that I'm being punished. Soon we are sweaty and our bodies make a wet slapping noise with each inward stroke. Within possibly a minute of this, I am almost ready to cum. Mistress senses it. Suddenly she snaps in my ear, "Get up! get up and pull that filthy cock out of me NOW! Don't you dare cum in me, you worthless fucking piece of garbage! Pull out and get up! Shoot your cum on the floor."

Doing as she says, I am soon spent, and there is a small puddle of cum on the concrete floor. Mistress is already on her feet. "Now get on your knees, slut, and start licking up your cum from the dirty floor. Go on, get on all fours, like the dog you are!" Once I am on my knees lapping up the cum, Mistress puts her foot on my head, gently but firmly making sure my face makes contact with the floor as I clean my own semen from it with my tongue.

Suddenly, there is a searing pain in my back as something strikes it, and I realize I have forgotten all about the riding crop! Mistress begins lashing me brutally with it, bringing it down over and over again on my back and ass. I am quickly crying out loudly from the pain. As Mistress beats me, she hollers loudly, "That's what you get for fucking talking back to me! How DARE you curse at me! You will NEVER curse at me ever again!" She berates me this way, until she is panting, gasping for breath, and the crop has come down on me no less than 25 times, and possibly more. There has never been such pain as this. Mistress has hit me hard enough to cause some of the lashes to bleed lightly, and I know tomorrow I will have welts and bruises all over my back and ass.

Just as quickly as it began, the onslaught stops. "Mistress, I'm sorry. I swear I'm sorry. Just please don't hit me anymore today," I plead. I am now eager to do absolutely anything which will pacify her.

"I won't, Slave, don't worry," she answers. "The punishment is almost over. Only one more little thing is left. To make sure you remember this little incident, I'm having you sleep down here tonight, chained to the wall. Oh yeah, no food either, until tomorrow. I'm betting we won't have any issues with you cursing at your Mistress again for a long time!"

"Yes, Mistress, thank you Mistress," I reply eagerly. "I won't do it again, don't worry" She looks me over carefully. "I know you won't, Slave. Good night." she says as she again climbs the stairs, flicking the light switch on her way out, leaving me in total darkness for the next 10 hours or so. I settle down miserably, thinking I will never be able to get to sleep. Five minutes later, I am out cold.

In the morning, I am awakened by soft kisses. It's Mistress, returning to unlock my shackles. I can tell all is now forgiven. Taking me gently by the hand, she leads me upstairs to her bedroom, where we make love together as the sun is rising outside.